Finger Painting
by Oldwickedsongs
Summary: Sesshoumaru is created, and dreams. A SandmanInuyasha crossover.


Author's Note: A drabble written for Babbitt to help seed her growing addiction to Sandman. A crossover in the strictest sense of the word, the second of mine, and in which there is no plot save allowing Dream to be moody and Sesshoumaru to be snobby. Is there anything else greater? If you have read Neil Gaiman's Sandman, you should recognize Dream. If not, I leave it at this: the Prince of Stories, called Lord Shaper among other things is the personification of Dreams. Not just mine, but also everyone's and everyone in stories begin as dreams, do they not? R/R

Disclaimer: "If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended,

That you did but slumber'd here while these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme is no more yielding then a dream."

-Midsummer's Night Dream

**Finger Painting   
By: Lady Erised**

Youkai dream.

He knows this, for all creatures capable of thought and duty, dream but still it intrigues him. Especially this one. He likes this one.

He was born in the Dreaming, as all Youkai, and He remembers this one as a thought.

_His_ thought.

The Prince of Stories remembers kneeling down by the shores of the Soft Places and whispering in the old words to form and fix this creature. He spoke to the creature when it was unnamed: told it stories and rules, and rhymes, and tales.

He used his own hands to craft the form and the thought and the Being.

He told him a secret and pressed his finger to the Thought's lip and gave it an impression.

He drew his finger across his crown and gave him the moon. He stole gold from the rivers and made him eyes.

You, the Dream-King told him, will be InuYoukai.

That is well, the Being had replied.

You, Prince of Stories said, will be son of great conquerors.

It is well, the InuYoukai replied.

You, Morpheus whispered, will be stronger then death.

It is well, said the one who was stronger then Death.

Dream gave him a name and the Thought became Sesshoumaru. And it was well.

Dream gave Sesshoumaru beauty, grace, history, and legend. He crafted Sesshoumaru a little Lord that would love him, and follow him to the circles of hell. He showed Sesshoumaru the Youkai General who would be his father. He showed him the Youkai Queen who would be his mother. He opened his arms and laid out the plains of the Sengoku Jidai, and showed him his Kingdom.

And then, he, the Dream King, step back, drawing back the visions and stared at his beautiful dream and asked, are you pleased, Sesshoumaru.

And Sesshoumaru stared into the expanse of the Dreaming and told him it is well.

This angered the Dream King. He stepped back, staring at his figure of beauty and strength and found it was unmoved by his gifts. One does not disregard the boons of the Dreaming. He withdrew his helm, and pulled from his hands the gloves and watched his creature stare into the expanse.

You seek the others then, Morpheus demanded, do you desire more.

I have nothing to desire, but if you wish, make me desire.

You will desire, Dream said in anger, a tawdry trifle thing. A sword that you will never possess. It will be a sword worthy of your skill, a sword with the power to fell a hundred of your enemies with one swoop. A sword forged from the greatness of your father.

Sesshoumaru said it was well.

Does this make you despair?

If you wish, make me despair.

You will despair, Prince of Stories said, you will despair for the sword that will never be yours. You will be driven to despair by madness it seems, and there touch my sister's realm of delirium. You will despair over the blade that will not be yours. You will obsess and despair and lose all sight of the gifts I give you.

It is well came the Youkai's reply.

Then you will destroy, he cursed. You will carry death and destruction in your ranks. Your path will never be at peace because of the hunger for the blade. You will destroy. You will bring death. Those who meet you will fear you. You will have no peace. You will bring only pain.

Now, Lord Shaper demanded as he pulled down the path he made for Sesshoumaru and weaved it into the destiny, now does it move you? Now are you content?

It is well came the Destroyer's response.

Morpheus stared at Sesshoumaru for a long time as the Dreaming passed between them. He had given him beauty, and beauty was ungrateful. He gave him power and power was ungrateful. He gave him over to the Endless, told him of his path though none should possessed that knowledge and still, Sesshoumaru was ungrateful.

Dream kneeled down on the banks of the Soft Places, where the Dreaming and the worlds aged, merged and silked together. He picked up a handful of sand and let it weave through his fingers: a thousand dreams falling from he who birthed them all. He heard all the little gods and demons and humans call to him from between his fingers but paid them no heed.

Does nothing move you the Shaper asked his dream. I gave you beauty, and ugliness. I have you power, and weakness in lust. Does nothing stir your heart?

And Sesshoumaru kneeled down beside the Dream King, and slid his fingers across the sands.

You gave me no heart to move. He told him simply.

Dream understood his folly, shutting his eyes and the Dreaming darkened with him. Sesshoumaru watched him, and reached over, touching the Shaper's hands with his own.

Would you give me this, Lord Dream?

I cannot. You are formed. Sealed and destined. I cannot take or add to what destiny has decreed. The Lord of the Dreaming opened his eyes, and stared up at his Dream. There are rules to obey. I cannot.

Sesshoumaru looked away, and understood. There was silence between them for a time before, quietly, he asked.

Then, my Lord, have you no dream for me?  
The Prince of Stories turned back to the sands before him and watched as they swirled together. Then, he gave Sesshoumaru the dream of his heart.

She was small. Human. Frail. Ugly when set beside Sesshoumaru's grace. Morpheus gave her sorrow too, and dreams, but took destruction from her. He gave her the dream of a guardian who could want for nothing but a heart. There was her desire. He gave her a hard life. There was her despair. Then he whispered into her ear the name of his Dream and told her one day she would find him in the forests, and it would feel like a dream and if she remember what he told her now, she would be with him always.

And the dream girl blinked, smiled and said she would.

He took her into his arms, and put her to sleep. Then, he gave her to Death, to be born into life when it was her time.

Then, he wakes Sesshoumaru.

------

Sesshoumaru opened his eyes from a strange dream and promptly shook it off to recall the pain. He wanted to scream. Scream the pain that surged through his body from the Wind Scar. The Wind Scar. Tessaiga's ultimate attack. Brought against him by his useless half-blood brother. Sesshoumaru seethed under this insult. He was Sesshoumaru, of the Western Lands. He wanted for nothing. He who was created as perfection.

To be bested by the sword that should have been his birthright.

It is almost maddening.

Perhaps he has gone mad, Sesshoumaru thinks for a moment, as he shifts his body and presses it up against a tree. After all, he, Lord of the Western Lands, and currently the Taiyoukai of the Western Lands was sitting in a forest too weak to move. Because of a sword.

Another swell of pain surged through his body, making him freeze up in shock and pain. He refused to scream. Then, he heard it.

A snap of a twig, and disturbance of overgrowth, as the woods peeled back to reveal a small human child. Sesshoumaru watched her move, without realizing he knew her. She was something out of a dream. Perhaps he was still dreaming.

And somewhere not far away, the Prince of Stories watched and smiled as a secret dream fulfilled itself.

It was well.


End file.
